


Love Illumination

by madhatt



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Jazz, Asexual Prowl, Asexuality, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Newspaper AU, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4752110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madhatt/pseuds/madhatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an ugly breakup, Jazz decides to move to Yuss for some time, to clear his head. There he starts working at a local newspaper. Thanks to his coworkers he also meets Prowl, a not very nice police officer, who will change his life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Collaborations Don't Work

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write this for a while now. Working at a newspaper is so much fun, I thought it would be a perfect AU to write using Transformers characters.  
> There will be more characters and pairings than the ones listed in the tags, but since they won't be very important, I'm not listing them, at least not until I decide to change the plot and someone suddenly becomes the new main character.  
> Also, I'll try my best to update this thing once a week, somewhere around weekend.  
> Hope you enjoy! And remember, comments are always welcome :3

“I hope everything is to your liking,” said editor-in-chief of the Yuss Daily, Ultra Magnus, and Jazz flashed him his best fake smile, that looked perfectly natural. In reality, nothing was to his liking. Not his current situation, and certainly not his new job. At least not entirely. But he was not about to tell his new boss that. “I won't be showing you around, one of the journalists will do that, if you will follow me,” added Ultra Magnus and he was already standing up.

Jazz followed him. They entered the newsroom, where most of his new co-workers resided. Right then it was almost empty. But it was to be expected – it was just after the morning meeting and almost everyone was out, working on their articles. There was however one mech sitting at one of the desks, writing something diligently on his datapad. Ultra Magnus led them straight to this mech, a Praxian. Or rather to the desk right next to his.

“This will be your new workspace. Please, keep it tidy, it is how people will see you, after all,” said Ultra Magnus and then finally acknowledged the yet unnamed mech, who was by then looking at them with an amused smile on his faceplates. “This is Bluestreak. He's been working for us for some time now. He is the one who our readers come to when they need our help.”

“Yeah, if someone's in need, feels they are being screwed over, not taken seriously, or angry with how things are in our town, they come to me. And I do _everything_ to help,” he said and then grinned. “Or at least try to calm them down. Seriously, some people's problems are just _so_ stu...”

“Bluestreak.” Ultra Magnus didn't let him finish. His voice was stern, but Bluestreak didn't seem very worried about that. “You will show Jazz around.”

Bluestreak saluted him mockingly. “Yessir.”

“Good.” Ultra Magnus ignored Bluestreak's teasing. Instead he nodded at them and then left to once again hide in his office.

“He's not very … friendly.” Jazz started, as the door closed behind Ultra Magnus.

“No he's not. But don't worry, he's actually really nice, once you get to know him better, you'll see yourself. But let's not talk about the boss anymore.” Bluestreak stood up and moved to shake Jazz's hand. “One more time, I'm Bluestreak.”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Jazz.”

Bluestreak smiled at him brightly. The young mech was really good looking with his grey paintjob, striking red chevron and handsome, friendly smile. Jazz liked the mech instantly. “So. Jazz. What brings you here? It's small town, I don't recall ever hearing of you.”

Jazz laughed. “And you know everyone?”

“But of course! That's my job. So?”

Jazz was not sure why, but he didn't feel like lying, or even saying half-truths, when he was facing this lighthearted mech he had just met. Bluestreak seemed to be very easy to trust. Jazz didn't feel like analysing this too much, so he simply decided to tell the truth. “Bad breakup. I've decided to take a break from everything. You know, get away, clear my head...”

“Yeah, I understand,” said Bluestreak. “So how long are you staying with us?”

“Few orbital cycles, probably. My friend, Blaster, is filling in for me in Iacon, at Iacon Daily News, writing about cultural events and such, so for some time no one should be missing me.”

“So you were a cultural events guy?” Bluestreak asks.

Jazz nods. “Yeah, music and concerts mostly. But Ultra Magnus said I can't do that here.” And that was the main reason Jazz wasn't crazy about his new job – he wasn't able to do what he wanted to do. But that was the only option, if he wanted to at least continue to write for a newspaper during his not-exactly-holiday.

Bluestreak humming in agreement broke him out of his thoughts. “Windblade's taking care of that already. So what you're gonna do?”

“Ultra Magnus says I'm supposed to write everything and anything that needs to be written.”

“Like most of us then. In a small town like ours, you have to write about whatever's important at the moment. No fussing,” said the mech. “But don't worry, it's all good and mostly easy.”

“I hope so,” replied Jazz, but Bluestreak's optimism was already affecting him. Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad, all in all.

Bluestreak patted his arm reassuringly. “You can be sure about that. But now, let's take you on this promised tour around our office.”

To his own surprise, Jazz was actually really happy to follow him.

 

Tour wasn't very long, since the office itself was rather small, and also as it was the middle of the solar cycle, almost no one was around – most of the reporters were walking around town, looking for hot stories to write about. But still there were few mechs he managed to meet. There was Windblade, an amicable and bright art editor. She shook his hand vigorously and pulled him into a short, but friendly conversation, after Bluestreak told her Jazz was doing the same thing as she, back in Iacon. Smokescreen was Bluestreak's cousin and when Jazz approached him, he was on the phone with spokesmech for Optimus Prime, mayor of the town. The conversation was heated, but from the small smirk on Smokescreen's faceplates and the wink he shot Jazz, it was safe to say it was going according to plan.

There was also one more mech present, Rung. “Oh, I'm not here everyday, I'm only responsible for the monthly extra about history of Yuss. If you ever want to write something for me, just let me know,” said the dainty orange mech and his glasess twinkled as he smiled at Jazz.

Afterwards Jazz talked with Bluestreak some more and then left for home – he was about to start the job the next day, so for one more day he was free to do whatever. He decided to first go back to his new, temporary home and possibly eat something, or call his friends in Iacon. He was renting a small apartment, fit for one mech, at the outskirts of Yuss. The small town was a nice, calm place, but the neighborhood Jazz chose to live in for the time being was absolutely idyllic. He was actually looking forward to the time he was about to spend here.

If only the circumstances weren't this bad.

Jazz sighed as he was walking down the main street of Yuss – it was smaller than the average street of Iacon. And to tell the truth, his own problems seemed smaller in here, also. His ugly breakup with Siren, the main reason he was in Yuss, didn't actually seem half as bad; his temporary work looked like it was going to be easy and fun, and the town itself proved to be a small heaven. For the first time in what felt like vorns Jazz felt everything was going to be alright and his decision to take a short vacation was the right one.

When he finally arrived home, Jazz was in high spirits and decided to call Blaster. His best friend was an anchorman at a local radio station and in Jazz's absence also an art editor at Iacon Daily News.

“Hey, my mech, how are you doing?” Blaster's voice was as optimistic as ever and Jazz couldn't help but smile.

“I should be the one asking it, my work's all good for you?”

“Sure it is! If I knew it was this nice, I would ask you to share your workplace so much earlier,” said Blaster, snickering.

“Don't get too comfortable in my seat, I'm going back soon,” replied Jazz with fake annoyance.

“Yeah, I know you are. I bet I'll miss you like crazy till then.”

“Be careful, if Cosmos heard you, he'd be jealous,” teased Jazz.

Blaster huffed. “No, he wouldn't. He knows I have my optics only on his cute perky aft.” And he really did. Blaster and Cosmos had a relationship Jazz hoped to share with someone, someday in the future. They loved each other and were not afraid to show it. They also respected each other's feelings, something Siren couldn't do for him, Jazz thought bitterly. Fortunately Blaster changed the topic before Jazz became too morose. “So how do you like Yuss?”

“It's so calm and slow, I think I'm going to enjoy living here for some time.”

“And work?”

“We'll see, I'm starting tomorrow, but the mechs I've met so far are really nice.”

“Just don't get too used to it,” Blaster whined.

“I won't, I'm sure I won't,” said Jazz with finality and once again changed the topic, wanting to hear all the latest gossip.

 

The next day he started early. He arrived at the office and headed straight to Ultra Magnus' room. There were mechs there already, but the meeting hadn't started yet.

“You should've seen Blurr, he was amazing! I mean, not that anyone expected him to be anything _but_ amazing, but still, he was _so good_ yesterday,” was saying a small, stocky mech, sitting next to Bluestreak, just as Jazz entered. Praxian noticed Jazz in the doorway and waved him over. He introduced the talkative minibot as Swerve. He was apparently sportswriter and obviously a big fan of racing, especially Blurr. “But don't let Blurr overshadow your conjunx,” said Bluestreak laughing, and it made Swerve flush quite adorably, as he stammered that he loved Skids the best in the whole wide universe and that Skids knew that well enough.

Soon more mechs arrived and Jazz was quickly introduced to Starscream, a loud Seeker who wrote mainly about local politics, cameramen – Rewind and Longtooth, and Circuit, who, as he said himself, was here to do street surveys with his best mech Longtooth. Jazz also noticed Rung sitting in the far corner. The small mech told Jazz that Ultra Magnus wanted him to attend the morning meetings whenever he was around, just so he knew what was going on in the newsroom.

Jazz spoke to Rung for a few more kliks. The orange mech shared, that he was actually a psychiatrist and only worked at the newspaper during his days off.Jazz hoped to talk some more, but soon, when everyone was finally present, Ultra Magnus started the meeting. One after another all the mechs shared their ideas for the next day's edition. For a town as small as Yuss, there seemed to be enough topics for everyone to spend the whole day writing. They switched topics easily – Starscream told Smokescreen about the rumors he had heard concerning Megatron's charity organization for veterans (Smokescreen muttered something about Starscream always hoping to find something on Megatron and never succeeding, but agreed to look into it anyway), and Rung asked Bluestreak to write about the devastated murals near his home. Then few information about cultural events were thrown Windblade's way and Swerve stole every news about sports.

Soon Jazz was the only mech with nothing to do. “You are new in town, we don't expect you to know about the town affairs just yet...” said Ultra Magnus, but he was visibly irritated. At least Jazz thought so. Fortunately Smokescreen came to his aid. “On the way here I've seen a small collision. Three mechs touched bumpers on the main street. Maybe Jazz could start with calling the Police Department, finding out what it was about. Maybe something else also happened, something we don't know about yet. Jazz could ask about that.”

Ultra Magnus hummed in agreement. “Good idea. Jazz, you'll do that.”

Jazz was a little surprised. “A small collision is something worth writing about?” It was unheard of in Iacon. They didn't bother with such stories, unless it caused major traffic jam or there were medics involved.

“But of course,” said Ultra Magnus, like it was the most obvious thing. “Besides, you don't know yet, it's possible it is worse than Smokescreen says.”

Jazz shrugged. “Alright, if you say so, boss.”

 

Bluestreak gave Jazz the number to Police Department's press officer and Jazz was soon calling the mech.

“Police Department, press officer, how can I help you?”

The voice was low and sounded slightly annoyed. Jazz frowned. “This is Jazz from Daily Yuss. I'm calling to ask about the collision on the main street earlier today.”

“What about the collision?”

“Well... Can you tell me more about it?”

The mech on the other end of the line sighed. He was quickly beginning to annoy Jazz with his attitude. After all, he was there to talk to press, for Primus' sake. “Wait a klik.” The mech was silent for a while, but soon he said, “Three mechs, one of them speeding, they were involved in a collision at around seventh cycle this morning. None of them was overcharged, we didn't have to notify the Yuss Hospital, either. The oil spills were quickly cleared and we fined the speeding mech with a 200 shanix speeding ticket. There were no traffic delays.”

The mech went quiet. Jazz thought he was going to continue, but there was only silence. “That's all?” he asked.

“What else you think there is?”

“W-what?” Jazz was seriously angry right now. What was wrong with this mech?

“Nothing. There's nothing else,” the police officer answered his own question and then hung up.

Jazz stayed silent for some time. He was annoyed by the mech's attitude. Wasn't he supposed to talk to the press daily? He should be more understanding and nice. Another thing was the information he shared with Jazz. Meaning, no information at all. How was he supposed to write an article using this nothing he had just heard?

He decided to try anyway. He was getting paid based on linage after all. And because of that it took him much more time than it should have to finish the short article – he spent almost a cycle trying to make the article as long as possible, and as entertaining for potential readers. The whole time he cursed the mech, whose name he didn't even know, because the cog-sucker hadn't introduced himself, for ruining his mood so early in the day.

Only when he was finally finished and hating the mech with his whole spark, did he realize, he had forgotten to ask if anything else was happening, and would have to call him again.

 

“It's Jazz again,” he spoke with malice in his voice.

“Ah yes.” The other mech sounded less hostile than just cycle earlier. “I want to say I'm sorry for my behavior earlier today.”

Oh.

“What?” Jazz said, after he shook his head and got over his surprise. He had to admit, he was a little disappointed – he was beginning to like hating this mech.

“It's always really busy in the mornings, there's a lot of things to prepare before the start of the day. Plus it's my first day being press officer, I'm not yet used to making these mundane press releases sound interesting.”

“Don't worry about it, it's actually my job to make it interesting,” was Jazz's almost automatic reply.

The mech cleared his vocalizer, but didn't comment on Jazz's words. Instead he asked, “So you managed to make use of the information from earlier?”

“Yeah, I think I did good. But anyway...” Jazz couldn't finish the sentence, because the other mech spoke at the same time, “What do you need to know this time?”

Jazz smiled. Press officer sounded almost eager. Or at least as eager as this low voice could get. “I wanted to ask, if there was anything else you could share with me? I need to write more, I was hoping, well not really hoping... I certainly don't hope for other's misfortune, but still... Maybe you police officers did something worth writing about recently?” he finally managed to stammer out.

For a brief moment press officer sounded like he was laughing. But then he simply said, “No, unfortunately for you there was nothing exciting going on since yesterday, when you reporters called us.”

“Oh.” Jazz had really hoped for something more to write about.

“Yeah.”

“A shame.”

“Yeah.”

They stayed silent for a while. The other mech was probably waiting for Jazz to say something else. But there was nothing else to say, really, expect goodbye, which Jazz quickly did. He was about to cut the connection, but then he remembered. “Oh wait! I didn't get your name. What's your name?”

“It's Prowl.”

Despite his mood, Jazz couldn't help but smile. “Then, nice to meet you, Prowl.”

 


	2. Can't Stop Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newsroom is a well full of gossips. But it's also full of mechs, that are eager to make Jazz a part of their newsroom family.

When Jazz arrived at the newsroom the next day, there was a mech occupying the workspace in front of his own, that had been empty the whole day before. The mech had a visor much like his own, but he also had his mouth covered by a faceplate. He was all rectangular in shape, but despite that, appeared rather dainty, for some reason. As soon as Jazz entered, the mech moved his covered face in Jazz's direction.

“Designation: Soundwave.” His voice didn't sound like a regular mech's. Instead it seemed to be generated by an artificial voicebox. It sent shivers up Jazz' plating, he wasn't even sure why. But before he could think about it, Soundwave continued. “Soundwave: happy to meet Iaconian Jazz.”

“Yeah, nice to meetcha,” Jazz said, but he couldn't help but stare a little at the visored mech. There was something distressing about Soundwave, but Jazz couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. He was probably just being ridiculous, he knew that, but he couldn't shake off this feeling. “So what you do?” he asked instead, to end the awkward silence.

“Soundwave: Online news editor. Can't wait to be of help,” Soundwave replied.

“Thanks, mech. You weren't here yesterday, right? Or the day before, I don't remember you being here, when Bluestreak was giving me the tour.” Jazz hoped he didn't sound rude, he simply decided that maybe talking to Soundwave would be the best way to see past the somewhat creepy demeanor.

“Cassettes: Sick. Needed Soundwave's care.”

Jazz dimmed his optics, not understanding. Cassettes? What... Then it hit him. “Oh! So you've got sparklings?”

“Cassettes: Symbionts. Soundwave: Raised Cassettes like his own sparklings. Soundwave: Cares deeply.”

Jazz couldn't help but smile. Soundwave suddenly didn't seem half as weird as before. “That's so cool,” he said and finally sat down in his chair. He rested his chin on his hands and looked at Soundwave again. “So how many are there?”

“Ravage. Laserbeak. Buzzsaw. Rumble. Frenzy.”

“Five?” Jazz almost shouted in surprise. “You managed to raise five sparklings?!” Jazz couldn't imagine raising even one, it seemed like such a big responsibility...

“Soundwave: Maybe alone, but has a friend. Got a lot of help.”

Jazz stared at him. Soundwave not only raised them, but raised them alone? With help from one friend? And it had to be little help, he didn't say he had an amica, or a conjux, simply a friend. He was about to ask, how was it even possible, but before he could, there was a sudden and loud “Hello!” shouted right next to him.

“How are you guys doing?” Bluestreak sounded happy and all too awake for the early hour it was.

“Soundwave: Content.”

“Are Rumble and Frenzy functioning and good again?” Bluestreak wanted to know.

“Yes. All good.”

Bluestreak smiled. “That's good to hear. It _was_ lonely without you here. Well, almost lonely, because we've got Jazz now, so there obviously was someone to talk to in your absence. Though I gotta say, Starscream wasn't even half as nice to work with, when he was filling in for you these last two days. He should just stick to his usual articles. I swear, I wasn't sure if I should even bother him...”

Bluestreak kept on talking and Soundwave hummed his engines from time to time, not bothering to answer him with actual words. But he was obviously listening. Jazz listened, too. He listened to Bluestreak's pleasant chatter and Soundwave's calming engines, and not before long, there was time for the morning meeting and the beginning of another workday.

 

This time Jazz had actually something to write about. Nothing big or important, but more up his alley – while walking back home, Jazz decided to buy some new music chips and found out, that the owner of the local music store, famous for its huge and diverse collection of music, was thinking of closing the business. Judging from the reaction of his new co-workers, especially Smokescreen's disappointed groan, it was going to be a hot topic among the locals, and so most definitely worth writing about.

He got to it as soon as the meeting was over. It was a pleasure to write, much easier than the few short stories he had written the previous day. It was even easier now, since there was no Bluestreak next to him. Jazz liked the mech since the first klik he met him, as well as his pleasant chatter, but it _was_ hard to focus with Bluestreak talking and talking and _talking_ the whole day long.

Thanks to Bluestreak's absence however, he was writing twice as fast as the day before. He was almost finished with first half of his article, when the receiver on Bluestreak's desk started ringing. At first Jazz tried to ignore the noise. After all, it wasn't his call to answer. But the mech on the other end of the line was persistent – kliks later the ringing was starting to annoy Jazz. He knew he should answer. That was actually one of favorite things for Ultra Magnus to say. “Always answer, even if it's the receiver on someone else's desk. After all it might be your most important cover story trying to get a hold of you,” he said a couple of times everyday. Jazz had heard it, he had also be jokingly warned about it the first day by Smokescreen. Still Jazz was unsure. Others were blissfully ignoring the ringing, even Soundwave, so why should he, the newest addition to the newsroom, be the one to take the call.

In the end, he decided to do that. “Bluestreak, I've got a story for you,” was the first thing Jazz heard after finally answering the call.

“It's not Bluestreak. It's Jazz,” he said quickly.

“Oh.” There was a pause. Then, “It's Prowl.”

Surprising even himself, Jazz actually was happy to hear the press officer. “Prowl, hello! What can I do you for?” he asked teasingly.

“I've got a story.”

“For Bluestreak? He's away right now, he was complaining about how busy he would be today.”

“Well, then it can be for you, I guess.”

“Then shoot. What's the great story?”

“It's nothing great, really. The police department is holding a charity event a deca-cycle from now. For the sparklings living in the orphanage.” There was a pause, then an uncertain, “If you could maybe write about it...”

“You don't sound too enthusiastic.”

“Well... Most mechs don't want to have anything to do with police officers, even if it's for a good cause. Besides, they usually don't know about things like this in advance – it's usually in the newspaper only a day before, when everyone has other plans already.”

Jazz straightened his back as he felt the resolve to help Prowl form inside his spark. “Don't you worry! I'll write you a story and force the editor to print it as fast as possible, you've got mah word for it.”

There was a pause and then, “Thank you, Jazz,” said Prowl. For the first time since he had heard the mech, Jazz was sure he recognized a smile in the other's voice.

 

“Missed me?” Bluestreak was back a cycle later, with a huge smile on his face and a happy bounce to his stroll.

“You certainly don't look like you've missed us.” Smokescreen, who approached the moment he noticed Bluestreak come in, was the first to reply. He smirked, as he looked at Bluestreak's happy expression. “Were you by any chance at the art gallery?”

Jazz's visor flashed with interest. “I thought art was Windblade's thing?”

Smokescreen snickered, then said, “Not when it comes to Sunstreaker's gallery...”

“Who's Sunstreaker?”

“Bluestreak's _conjunx_ ,” laughed Smokescreen.

That actually made Bluestreak's fans whirl in embarrassment. “He's not my conjunx!” But then he bit his lipplate and looked at Jazz with a twinkle in his optic. “Not yet, at least.”

Smokescreen patted Bluestreak on the shoulder. “Yeah, Sunstreaker and his twin, Sideswipe, are very clear about their interest in Blue. And their plans about the future...”

“Twins?!” Jazz looked at Bluestreak with disbelief. Twins were every mech's wet dream. He didn't know even one mech who had never dreamt about spending some time alone in the berthroom with twins. Another thing altogether was the fact, that most twins didn't fall for the same mech. They usually led separate lives, bonded to different mechs and never met in the berth. To think that Bluestreak actually managed to meet a pair that wanted _him..._ Jazz was a little jealous, he was willing to admit. Still, he ended up sighing and leaning back in his chair, as he looked at Bluestreak with fake hurt on his face. “You went to flirt with some mechs, with _twins,_ and I was here doing your job for you, answering your calls...”

Despite, Jazz's joking voice, Bluestreak got serious immediately. “You did? I'm so sorry, I was really working, I was doing an interview with Sunstreaker about his new exhibition...”

Jazz laughed and waved his hand, dismissing Bluestreak's worry. “Nah, it was just Prowl, the police officer, calling to ask you to write a story about a charity event. I agreed to write the thing, so don't worry about it.”

Both Bluestreak and Smokescreen lightened up at Jazz mentioning Prowl. “You talked to Prowl? How do you like him? I've forgotten to ask you about that yesterday.”

“Well... He seems a little... tense. But he's okay, I guess.” He said and then looked at the other two mechs suspiciously. “Why?”

“Prowl's my twin brother,” said Bluestreak.

To say Jazz was surprised would be an understatement. Another pair of twins? “Really?! But you seem so different!” said Jazz, as he compared the talkative, easygoing Bluestreak to the cold, somehow detached voice of the press officer. “I mean, I only talked to him like, three times maybe, but still...”

Smokescreen laughed at Jazz's reaction. “They really _are_ different. Even after talking to them thousands of times. Bluestreak's simply the friendly one, and Prowl...”

“Prowl's the cool one,” interrupted Bluestreak with a glare at his cousin. “Really, he's not so bad, though he sure knows how to make a bad first impression.” He huffed. “But not only that, he's probably also nervous, since he has to talk to the press now.”

“Yeah, he mentioned it was his first day being the press officer,” said Jazz. He looked at Bluestreak questioningly, hoping he would say more about Prowl. And he did.

“There was a robbery at one of the jewelry stores, Prowl was pursuing the suspect and had a really close encounter with another mech... The mech that was in his truck alt mode,” snickered Bluestreak, but it was obvious, it wasn't a good memory.

Jazz winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch. After repairing him, and there was a lot to repair, believe me, Ratchet, head of our hospital, declared Prowl off field duty for a deca-cycle, just to be sure everything was in working order. So my poor brother is now forced to deal with the media, thing he hates the most, unless he's talking to me of course.”

Jazz laughed at the mischievous twinkle in Bluestreak's optics. “Oh don't worry. I'll change that.” Jazz said and realized, he actually really meant it.

Bluestreak seemed to also like the idea, as he giggled at the conviction in Jazz's voice. Smokescreen however, just looked at him curiously dimming his optics in thought.

 

Few cycles later, Jazz was snickering as he watched the screen of his data pad. He knew he shouldn't do that at work, especially since he needed to finish his article about the music shop – he had gotten sidetracked and still needed to write the thing. Blaster however had sent photos of himself and his conjux endura. The day before they had been to a party, one that Jazz, had he been there, would also attend, and very obviously had a lot of fun. Jazz smiled as he watched still after still of Blaster hugging Cosmos, kissing his cute faceplate, pinching his sides or obviously trying to convince Cosmos to do the naughty in public. Cosmos was visibly embarrassed half the time, especially on the photos with Blaster in the naughty mood. “He shoulda gotten used to that vorns ago,” murmured Jazz to himself, as he smiled at the still of the shy mech and his incorrigible conjux. He was about to continue to another photo, when he noticed something in the background, and his good mood was instantly dampened.

Right there, in the corner of the still, was Siren. Jazz bit his lip, as he looked at his ex-partner. All the feelings that, to his surprise, he had managed to forget about these last couple of days, came back, making it hard to stop his frame from overheating in embarrassment and hurt. He reset his vocalizer a few times, as he remembered Siren's angry optics when Jazz tried to explain his needs, or rather lack of them to the other mech; he wriggled uncomfortably in his chair as once again he felt a ghost of the firm lips on his own and forceful hands on his waist. He recalled slapping Siren, then leaving as the other mech kept swearing after him furiously, for denying him what was supposed to be his.

Jazz was shivering. He noticed Rung watching him worriedly from across the newsroom. Jazz smiled at him and shook his head, hoping Rung would understand he didn't need help from the orange mech. Which was true. Jazz didn't feel traumatized, he was just hurt and still disappointed that the mech he was hoping to create a family with, had proven to be so unwilling to understand and reckless in his actions.

And maybe Jazz wasn't traumatized, but now he needed some cheering up. So he quickly turned to his transmitter and called the first mech that came to his processor. It happened to be Prowl.

“So I know you don't sound like your brother at all. But do you look anything like him?” he asked before Prowl could even say anything. That was probably the reason, why Jazz had to wait for the reply and when it came, it still sounded surprised and unsure.

“No, I don't think I do.”

That piqued Jazz's curiosity. “So are you more handsome? Or is Bluestreak the pretty one?” Hearing these words, Soundwave looked up at him. Jazz kept on forgetting the other mech was now occupying the space in front of him. Still, Jazz just smiled at him and turned his attention back to Prowl. “So?”

“I never thought about that. We are just different.” Prowl wasn't playing coy. He said these sentences with only a little bit of shyness and a whole lot of matter-of-factness.

“Good different?” Jazz couldn't help but ask.

“Different is always good,” said Prowl and this one sentence silenced Jazz for a few long kliks, only to make him smile wide and bright soon afterwards.

That was the one sentence he needed to hear.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, but some things came up that I needed to sort out first. Hopefully I'll be able to make it up with the next chapter following this one in the next few days.


	3. Dream Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz gets to see Prowl for the first time, though not everything goes according to the plan.

It was a few solar cycles later, when Jazz realized that hearing Prowl's voice in the morning, while fishing for stories to write, was the thing he needed to function properly for the rest of the cycle. The feeling crept up on him without him noticing, somewhere between asking Prowl about his looks and teasing him about his hopelessness in contacting the press some time later. Jazz hadn't even noticed it at first – he simply got so comfortable with Prowl's deep voice (and wasn't it telling that he no longer thought of it as cold) on the other end of the receiver, he was so sure it would be the thing he got to hear everyday, that he unconsciously let his mood and productivity fully depend on Prowl. He wasn't sure why it was the somber police officer that completely won him over – after all he hadn't even seen him yet, didn't know anything about him, just that Prowl was Bluestreak's brother, had a deep, vibrating voice that did funny things to Jazz's spark, and was in fact the most boring mech to ever walk Cybertron.

It were both the histories he passed on to Jazz, and how little he actually knew about the world around him. No matter how much Jazz bugged him, Prowl simply refused to comment too much about anything outside of work. Usually whenever Jazz tried to ask him about some cultural things – a film, book or show everyone was in love with at the time – just to talk to the enforcer a little bit longer, the police officer fell silent, only to murmur he had no idea what Jazz was talking about, and try to bring up some old text almost no one read anymore instead. And the worst thing was, he wasn't even one of those mechs who read them to show how original and unusual they were – Prowl genuinely enjoyed them. Or that's what it seemed like at least.

And still, despite that complete lack of interest in current affairs, Prowl was the only mech Jazz really wanted to talk to the whole cycle long. An occasion to realize that arose, when one solar cycle Prowl wasn't there to answer Jazz's morning call.

“Has anything happened to Prowl?” was the first thing he asked Bluestreak after he finished talking to a mech called Chromedome, who apparently took Prowl's place that solar cycle.

“He has a check up with Ratchet. Naively hoping he's gonna let Prowl go back to field work earlier. Like that's gonna happen,” snickered Bluestreak. “He always has problems forcing Prowl to take it easy, so now, when he can actually do something about it, he's going to use that chance to the fullest.”

“Workaholic, huh?”

“More of an idealist. He really believes that if he does his job diligently, he can change the city for the better. Or at least save it from rotting.” Bluestreak fell silent for a short moment. He had a fond look on his faceplates. But then he looked at Jazz, his expression turning teasing within a klik and a playful gleam appearing in his optics. “Why? Do you miss him already?” he asked.

If Jazz had been a different mech, a little bit shier, maybe he would have blushed. But instead he grinned and answered, “Actually I do, a little bit.”

“You miss Prowl?” Bluestreak sounded incredulous. “No one _ever_ misses him, of course excluding me and...”

Jazz didn't let him finish. “And yet here I am. So maybe humor me and tell me, do the two of you look alike?” Even talking to Prowl about it, Jazz still didn't know what the police officer really looked like and he had to admit, he was insanely curious. Now was as good an occasion as any to ask Bluestreak about it. Maybe the mech could help him with that.

“Oh we do actually!” Bluestreak lightened up even more – it seemed questions about Prowl did that to him.

“Really?” Jazz was surprised. “He said something entirely opposite.”

Bluestreak waved his hand dismissively. “That's because he looks at it the enforcer style. For me, when I look at our photos together, I see how similar we are, but Prowl sees different paint jobs, his stoic face and my stupid grin, different tips of our doorwings and cheeks. His are a little higher, you know,” said Bluestreak and chuckled, as if a mere thought of his twin was making him happy – it probably was. Jazz however took interest in something else first.

“So maybe you've got a picture of 'im?” Jazz hoped he didn't sound too excited. He probably did however, because Bluestreak smiled knowingly and then said, “I do, actually. Why? You wanna see?”

'Boy do I!' was what Jazz thought, but before he could dig himself an even deeper grave, he said instead, “Sure, why not.”

Bluestreak's optics dimmed for a klik, as he searched through his data. Finally he found what he'd been looking for and displayed it as a hologram in front of them.

Jazz's mechanics stilled and his spark whirled. Bluestreak wasn't lying. The mech standing next to him in the hologram was looking a lot like him. Only with a different paint job and expression that was supposed to look stern, but instead ended up a little lost. It was strangely adorable.

“He looks... not even half as angry as he tries to sound.”

Bluestreak laughed. “Yeah, he loses a lot of his seriousness when you get to know him.”

But it wasn't only the expression and insanely high, and attractive, cheek structure that made Prowl look different than Bluestreak. The way he held himself, straight and proud, with his doorwings raised high and arms crossed over his chestplates, he looked dashing and very tempting. He was really easy on the optics. The simple but striking black and white of his plating, combined with shapely frame and handsome face was probably something that many mechs found arousing, Jazz had no doubt about that. He could definitely imagine others lusting after Prowl and the teasing redness of his chevron. Jazz however felt like he could spend cycles simply admiring the visually pleasing lines of Prowl's frame.

“He's handsome, isn't he?” Jazz realized he had been asked a question only when Bluestreak started laughing at him. “You know what, don't answer, I can see you think so.”

Suddenly Prowl and Bluestreak's figures that had been displayed in front of Jazz disappeared. Jazz was about to protest, but before he could do so, he got a notification about a file being send directly to him. He looked questioningly at Bluestreak.

“Well, you can look at him longer, when you actually have the photo.” He winked at Jazz playfully.

Jazz was about to thank him, albeit reluctantly, when there was a sudden commotion next to him. It was Smokescreen and Starscream snickering, while the Seeker pointed to the door. Jazz looked that way, also. What he saw was a big, enormously huge actually, mech entering the newsroom. He had most unusual horns adorning his helm and impressive tank threads behind his shoulders. He also made Bluestreak's engines rumble in excitement.

“He's here again,” whispered the Praxian.

Jazz looked at Bluestreak in surprise, flashing his visor questioningly. Only now he realized, that the appearance of the huge mech made everyone in the newsroom, not only Praxians and Starscream, stir in excitement.

“Who is he?” asked Jazz.

“Fort Max,” replied Bluestreak immediately, but he kept his optics on the other mech who entered the newsroom and immediately headed for the far corner of the room.

“Who?” Asked Jazz, eyeing suspiciously the huge, mostly blue frame that made the newsroom and every mech in it suddenly appear really small.

“Shhh!” Jazz almost jumped at the sound of Starscream hissing at him from behind.

“Look, he's not even pretending anymore, just straight approaching Rung,” said Smokescreen.

“Awww... They both look so flustered, it's adorable.” Bluestreak was actually biting his lip, while he stared at two mechs. Jazz looked at them, too. Fort Max finally reached Rung and from the nervous glances he kept casting left and right, he was aware of all the attention. And so was Rung – he looked with reproach at his co-workers and then grabbed Fort Max's hand and pulled him to the small kitchen at the back of the newsroom.

“So what is it all about?” Jazz tried asking again.

“Gossip, of course,” answered Starscream immediately. It seemed he lost interest in the whole situation as soon as two mechs went to the other room. He turned around and went back to his desk. Smokescreen and Bluestreak on the other hand, still seemed rather excited.

“Fort Max is the warden at the Yuss prison. He's also a big fan of our Rung,” said Bluestreak.

Smokescreen laughed, but seeing Jazz's confused stare, continued in Bluestreak's place. “Rung, as a psychiatrist, takes care of many prisoners. He spends a lot of time in the prison because of that. And that's how he met Fortress Maximus. Let's just say, their acquaintance is in full bloom recently.”

“To your utter delight, I can see.” Jazz laughed.

“It's not that we mock them or something. We are really happy for Rung, you know. He's always so timid and detached, it's nice to finally see him blush because of someone's attention.”

“It really is nice, isn't it?” Jazz sighed and rested his chin on his hand. He wished he could have that – a nice mech next to him, glances full of love, warm hand on top of his own, and this special brand of companionship that came with love. But it wasn't his time. He had just broken up with one mech, he wasn't ready for another chance for disappointment. It really wasn't the time, was it?

 

Just as he promised, Jazz spent a sizable amount of time that day on the small article about the charity event that was supposed to take place less than a deca-cycle from now. Writing it wasn't hard, but convincing Trailbreaker, the publisher, to find some room for the article in the next day's newspaper was another thing altogether. Prowl wasn't wrong – if not for Jazz's stubborn attitude and talent at convincing others to agree with him, the article would probably appear at the last possible moment. But Jazz took pride in his strong will and keeping his promises and so, before the end of his unofficial shift, his article had a nice spot in the upcoming edition of the newspaper.

He felt proud of himself. It wasn't anything big, definitely not something he would be happy about in Iacon, while he was with Siren. But here, for some odd reason, small successes felt like something he should treasure. That, and also the mere thought of telling Prowl he managed to do that for him. He knew Prowl was probably going to see that for himself, after all he read the newspaper for sure, but he hoped he could be the one to tell the police officer about it. He wanted to hear the shy happiness in Prowl's voice that he was slowly getting addicted to.

He also wanted to see this affection reflected on the other's faceplates. Since Bluestreak had shown him his twin's photo earlier that solar cycle, he couldn't get that handsome face out of his processor. The whole solar cycle at work and then on his way home, he wished he could see that striking frame standing in front of him, not just as a hologram.

That was why, when he suddenly noticed a similar mech walking on the other side of the road, he was sure it was his processor playing tricks on him. It couldn't be Prowl, that would be too big of a coincidence. But then again, it was Yuss, a relatively small town. And also, even after seeing it once, it was hard to mistake that striking red chevron, nicely shaped doorwings and rigid posture. Even if the last one was somehow dampened by the young Minicon wriggling in the mech's arms.

Jazz stopped dead in his tracks at that realization. A Minicon? He looked at the scene on the other side of the road. There he was, the mech that could possibly be Prowl, carrying a small, black and red Minicon, with a second one, identical, except for the paint job, jogging right next to him, and a flight-capable Cassette perched on his shoulder. Right next to him walked another mech.

 _Soundwave_.

'Maybe alone, but has a friend. Got a lot of help.' Those were Soundwave's words. Was it possible that Prowl was more than that?

Jazz felt his whole frame heat up as his engines struggled with the sudden excitement of his frame. It couldn't be. It couldn't be Prowl. Jazz refused to believe he was the one helping Soundwave raise his sparklings. He refused to believe there was a mech that important in Prowl's life, when Jazz had only found out about the police officer and his soothing presence only days ago. When he had only realized just how much he cared despite their limited contact.

And wasn't that also frustrating? It simply couldn't be that he felt so strongly about it already. It shouldn't matter to him this much. And yet here he was, silently praying it was all a misunderstanding and Prowl was still his to dream about.

How stupid it was of him to feel like this.

Suddenly angry with himself, Jazz turned around and forcefully ignored the mechs on the other side of the street. He waited for them to walk away and then he resumed his steps, quickly heading for the safety of his own home.

 

When he calmed down a little, Jazz realized just how ridiculous he had behaved. It was completely irrational to feel this strongly about a situation like this and act like it had offended him personally.

He tried to calmly think about the whole situation. Soundwave made it clear, that he wasn't involved with anyone and only had a friend who helped him out of the goodness of their spark. So if it was indeed Prowl, there was nothing to worry about, was there? He should actually be happy to know that the mech whose voice was slowly wrapping itself around his spark, was so friendly and caring. But then again, maybe Soundwave simply didn't feel like sharing details of his romance with the new guy and they were really together?

Jazz shook his head. If Prowl really had someone, if that someone was Soundwave, Bluestreak would say something about that, wouldn't he? Jazz certainly hoped so. But then he vividly remembered his conversation with Bluestreak and how he interrupted him more often than not, not letting him finish, and quite possibly ignoring some vital information about the officer.

Jazz groaned as he went to his berthroom to sit on his berth. What was wrong with him, to feel this strongly about a mech he didn't even know? He had only talked to Prowl a couple of times, hadn't yet seen him in person. And yet here he was, imagining their first meeting, how perfect (or imperfect, depending on his mood) it would be. He imagined them slowly (sometimes instantly) falling for each other, starting a relationship together, growing closer, spending time together, learning each other and then, finally, deciding to go back to Iacon together. Or stay here in Yuss. Jazz imagined it a little differently every single time. And it wasn't like he really wanted it to happen. It was just nice to think about that in the evening, when he was resting alone in his new home. He didn't want to stop doing that. And he would have to, if Soundwave and Prowl happened to be a couple.

Those were the thoughts that haunted Jazz's processor until it slowed down and he suddenly slipped into recharge.

 

When he woke up, it was already morning. He couldn't believe he had recharged for this long. It seemed like the stress of the previous deca-cycle finally caught up to him. His body simply needed to relax. He was grateful that his frame was thinking for him, he felt so well rested he couldn't help but smile, but it also meant he had to leave for work really soon, without really doing any of the things he wanted to do the solar cycle before, but recharged instead.

It was only when he got to work, that he remembered why exactly he had exhausted his processor to the point of forced recharge – Prowl and Soundwave's happy stroll down the street with sparklings by their sides. He kind of wished he could forget that. He wasn't that lucky however. This picture accompanied him on his way to work, during the morning meeting, and then back in the newsroom as he tried to work. Even Bluestreak noticed something was off.

Also Soundwave. Despite his visor, Jazz was sure the mech was looking at him, he could feel Soundwave's stare on his plating. Was he suspecting something? Did he know Jazz had seen him and Prowl? Was Jazz so obvious with his inner turmoil?

This line of thinking was interrupted suddenly, when Jazz heard his receiver buzz to life and noticed Prowl's number blinking on the screen.

Not thinking at all, he answered the call.

“Jazz.” Prowl's voice was as tempting as ever. Jazz's spark whirled happily at its sound. “I'm calling to thank you.”

Thank him? “For what?” Jazz was confused.

“For the article about the charity event. It's in the newspaper today.” Prowl said it like it was obvious. And it was, Jazz's processor was simply elsewhere that cycle.

“Ah.. Yeah, I begged the editor for that,” he said hesitantly. The picture of Soundwave and Prowl happy together was so vivid, like he were watching it happening in front of him at that very moment.

“Thank you. It really means a lot to me.”

“You like sparklings, don't you?” It slipped out before Jazz could stop himself. It wasn't really weird, Prowl would certainly think he was talking about how much Prowl cared for the charity event at the orphanage, but he did sound a little bitter and could only hope the enforcer wouldn't notice that.

“Well... Yes, I do, actually.” Prowl sounded a little surprised and a whole lot shy.

“I saw you yesterday, you know.” Jazz cursed himself. It seemed there was no stopping him this solar cycle.

“You did?”

“Well, I think it was you. I've only seen your hologram, so...”

“A hologram? Where?” Now Prowl sounded vaguely alarmed.

Not as alarmed as Ultra Magnus, though. “Jazz! I need you to come here now. You're going to a city hall meeting. Rewind's going with you.” Ultra Magnus spoke loud and quick, and Jazz couldn't really ignore him, even if he wished to do exactly that. With regret gripping his spark, he turned his attention one more time to Prowl. “I'm sorry, I need to go, Ultra Magnus sounds really angry.”

“Oh.” Only one sound and it made Jazz still. Was it sadness he had just heard? “Well... We'll talk later.”

Prowl said it as a statement, but it sounded like a question, so Jazz answered. “Sure we will. Can't wait.”

“I can't wait to hear you, too.” And with that Prowl ended his call, not letting Jazz reply, and most certainly not voice the one thought that suddenly gripped his processor.

'Prowl wants to hear my voice.'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work's really not very lucky. I wanted to write it regularly and quickly, but the whole world plots against it. I had to leave for a couple of weeks because of work, but now as I'm back, I really hope I'll post regularly until the last chapter. Cross your fingers.. >___>


	4. Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As nice as it is to talk to someone, it wouldn't hurt to actually meet that person. Or in other words, with some help from his new friends, Jazz finally gets to meet Prowl.

“Jazz: Very obvious in his attraction.”

Soundwave's mechanical voice jerked Jazz out of his thoughts. Very important thoughts, actually – he was by now back from his short job at the city hall and was hoping for a chance to call Prowl. He wasn't even sure why, but after their latest, rather awkward conversation, he felt like he needed the help of a good reason to contact the enforcer. Still, he wouldn't be doing that soon, since Soundwave was obviously waiting for a response.

Unfortunately Jazz didn't have any idea how to respond to Soundwave's statement. Finally he decided on what he hoped to be an innocent “What attraction?”

Soundwave's visor gleamed. “Prowl: may be oblivious. Soundwave is not.”

“W-What has Prowl to do with that?!” Jazz tried to sound calm, maybe only a little surprised, but he failed miserably, his stuttering not making it any better.

“Jazz's attraction to Prowl very obvious. Soundwave: not a threat.”

Jazz felt his mechanics rattle in embarrassment. The sound of it was very clearly heard in the relative silence of the newsroom. He wanted to deny Soundwave's words, but before he could, the other mech suddenly withdrew his visor and looked straight at Jazz.

“You have a lot more in common with Prowl than you think, you should pursue this relationship,” he said. Jazz had to force himself to not reset his audials at Soundwave's words. As of yet he had not heard the other mech speak this way and he had to reconsider the thought that Soundwave's usual, soulless way of talking was his own choice, not obligation. Still he didn't dwell on that too long. It was what Soundwave had said that really made him think. What was he supposed to have in common with a mech like Prowl?

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

Soundwave simply kept staring at him. Jazz squirmed. He wasn't used to looking Soundwave straight in the eye, and for that reason alone, not the actual look of the other's optics, he felt slightly uncomfortable. It didn't last for much longer however, because suddenly Soundwave once again lowered the visor over his optics and without any explanation or warning looked back at the screen of his computer.

“Soundwave...” started Jazz, but at the exact same moment a loud “Jazz!” rang from behind him. He turned around, only to see Bluestreak approach, a happy skip evident in his walk.

“Jazz, I've just realized something absolutely horrible,” said Bluestreak, aiming for scandalized, but instead sounding amused. “You've been here with us for how long? Almost a deca-cycle now? And we haven't yet properly welcomed you with a party! It's inexcusable, what was I thinking? Well, I clearly wasn't thinking...”

Soundwave's humming cut through Bluestreak's word current, silencing the Praxian for a moment. It wasn't the first time Soundwave did that and Jazz had to admit, it was interesting to see how well it worked.

“Anyway,” continued Bluestreak after looking at Soundwave apologetically. “I booked us a table at the Crazy Turbofox after work. We'll do some newsroom bonding and get to know each other better.”

Bluestreak smiled at the thought and Jazz had to admit, it was a good idea. He liked his current co-workers and it would be nice to expand their acquaintanceship and make it not only workplace, but also a private thing.

“Yeah, why not, ah could use some going out,” he answered, not having to think about it at all. Back in Iacon he used to go out almost everyday. Not necessarily partying the whole night long, but at least spending a short time with some of his many friends. Why not do it in Yuss, too?

 

That was how Jazz ended up squeezed between Bluestreak and Skids, who he had just met for the first time just a cycle before, laughing and drinking and, most importantly, having a really good, relaxing time. Up until that moment he hadn't realized just how much he had been affected by his breakup with Siren. How tense and miserable he had become, despite his best efforts to put on a brave and happy mask.

And now he was finally relaxing and almost forgetting about everything that bothered him. He was truly enjoying himself. Almost the whole newsroom was here, just as Bluestreak hoped it would be, and also he had a chance to meet some other mechs of Yuss. Skids was the first one he had met that evening – Swerve's conjunx endura came with the small sports column editor, and immediately became friendly with Jazz. Skids was easy-going and optimistic, and to Jazz's amusement, seemed to be the only person able to calm down Swerve's nervous blabbering. Instead of letting his mouth run, rivalling Bluestreak's talkativeness with ease, he sat by his mech, content and calm, glancing at him adoringly from time to time, and sure, speaking a lot, but in a much less nervous way than he usually seemed to be doing.

But Skids wasn't the only new mech sitting at the table and drinking energon. In front of him Jazz had the brightest, shiniest plating he had so far seen in Yuss. (In Iacon this high gloss finish was pretty popular, especially among young and adventurous mechs, but here, it was the first time he saw it.) Rodimus – that was the mech's name – was currently glued to Ultra Magnus' side, his fingers dancing up and down the other's arm, a gesture that seemed to be enjoyable for Jazz's new boss. Bluestreak had said earlier, when they were approaching the Crazy Turbofox, that inviting Rodimus was the only way Ultra Magnus would come, too. But it was obvious from the way Rodimus talked animatedly with Starscream, he was not only an often addition to the Yuss Daily after-work outings, but also a friend to them. He felt at ease among those mechs and he most evidently made Ultra Magnus feel the same.

Soon other mechs started coming, too – first their small group got joined by Soundwave, then Rewind and Chromedome (and wasn't that another cute pair), and Longtooth and Circuit.

“Look at that handsome thing, Sunny. Doesn't he look like he needs some attention from mechs completely infatuated with him?” Jazz heard just next to himself after some time of idle talking. He turned around, only to see two large, almost identical mechs, one red and one yellow – clearly Bluestreak's infamous twins. Bluestreak's excited yelp seemed to confirm that. The red one, Sideswipe, as Jazz found out later, chuckled as he hugged Bluestreak from behind, and then whispered something in Bluestreak's audial that made the Praxian bite his lip and dim his optics.

The twins' arrival forced them all to rearrange things a little. Quite understandably Bluestreak wanted to sit between his two lovers and so they had to move around. The table they were sitting at suddenly didn't seem as big anymore, and according to Bluestreak, they still had to accommodate few more people. In the end, they all managed to find some more room next to Swerve, there was now also an empty seat next to Jazz, where Bluestreak had sat mere kliks earlier.

Just like Bluestreak wanted when he had planned their outing, they were progressively getting merrier and louder and much more overcharged. But also, to Jazz's discomfort, it was getting more and more obvious, how happy and in relationship everyone around him was.

“We went to see the new drama at the entertainment venue and we had to sit at the very end, because apparently, Ultra Magnus is just too big for other mechs to watch from behind him,” Rodimus said, as he described yet another story of their happy life, and Jazz tried his best to not feel bitter about others' happiness. “But no one's going to convince me, it's a bad thing he's big,” he actually purred as he said that, a sound that made Sideswipe chuckle.

“Oh, I can definitely see why you would like that,” said the twin, looking at Rodimus suggestively.

Jazz swore the shining mech looked suddenly shy at that. It looked unusual, to say the least, on a mech that seemed so boastful just kliks ago. “Well, actually I was thinking about hugging. I'm a cuddler at heart really, and you wouldn't imagine how much heat a frame as big as Ultra's generates.” He looked at his partner shyly and was met with a small smile gracing Ultra Magnus' normally expressionless features.

Oh, Jazz could definitely see the perks of that. He knew how to enjoy a cuddle himself and felt a pang of sadness, when he thought that he no longer had a mech to share it with. That though made him suddenly think of Prowl. In the end Jazz hadn't had a chance to contact him at work, with him needing to write another article and then leaving with others to spend some bonding time together. Jazz suddenly felt the regret and a little bit of sadness that he hadn't managed to contact the enforcer.

It was an unexpected, but not unwelcome thought. Over the last deca-cycle he found himself thinking of the mech with growing fondness, despite not having yet met him. Or maybe it was exactly because of that. It was easy to imagine himself in a relationship with a mech an image of whom he had basically created in his mind. Still, even if it would end up with him having to give up on those thoughts of a new, happy relationship, he really wanted to finally meet the enforcer.

“Oh, they are finally here! Rung and Fort Max, I thought they wouldn't come.” Bluestreak's happy exclamation interrupted Jazz's thoughts for the second time that solar cycle. He looked to the entrance and sure enough, there were two mechs heading their way.

“They look so cute, it would make me sick, but it just feels weird to feel sick because of Rung. Kind of offensive.” Starscream was probably talking about the fact two mechs were approaching them while holding hands, Rung's smaller fingers completely engulfed by Fortress Maximus' much more powerful and large ones. They were walking close to each other, not really glued by the sides, but almost managing it. Everyone was watching them approach, but Jazz found his attention drifting to a mech walking just behind them.

It couldn't be.

Jazz refused to believe that.

He felt his spark whirl at the sight before him. At the sight of a red chevron, shapely doorwings, robust chestplates and most importantly, that handsome face. He vented violently as he realized who he was looking at.

Prowl seemed to notice him at the exactly same moment. He slowed down just a notch, as his optics met Jazz's and he smiled. It was a small, bashful smile, with Prowl's optics dimming, only to brighten just a klik later. Jazz couldn't help but return the smile with a one of his own.

“Oh yeah, I've forgotten to tell you guys, I also told Prowl to come. You don't mind, do you?”

“No, of course not,” was what Jazz said before he could stop himself. He wasn't sure what bothered him more – the fact he said it out loud, or how much not surprised everyone was by that.

Before Jazz could add anything and try to cover his slip-up, the three mechs were by their table, exchanging greetings with everyone. And Prowl was standing right next to him, looking down at him and seeming to know exactly who Jazz was. And wasn't that a surprising thought.

“Hello, Jazz.” Just as surprising as hearing Prowl's voice without it being distorted by the receiver.

“Hello, Prowl.” The enforcer smiled again and Jazz was sure that shy smile would be the end of him.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Prowl pointed to the empty seat next to Jazz and at that moment for some reason looked at Bluestreak. Judging from his smug face, that was exactly the seat Bluestreak planned Prowl to take from the beginning.

“Not at all, mech. Come on, sit.” He moved closer to Skids to make some more room for Prowl, but still ended up with the enforcer's whole side touching his. There was definitely suspiciously little room for all of them to fit and Jazz couldn't help but once again look at Bluestreak. But only for a klik, since Prowl was finally next to him, in person, and he wasn't about to waste a moment of it.

“So...” Jazz started. “It's nice to finally meet ya.” He smiled at Prowl. It was ridiculous, how happy he actually was, but he decided not to think about it for too long. Instead he looked into Prowl's icy blue optics.

“Yes, it does seem it is about time.” Jazz shivered. Prowl's voice sounded much nicer in person. And Jazz prided himself in being able to appreciate a nice voice on a mech. He wanted to hear Prowl speak more.

And so he asked the first question that come to his mind, not worrying about it, not until after he had said it out loud. “So how did you recognize me? Ah mean, ah don't remember sending you a still,” he laughed nervously.

Prowl actually had to look away before answering. “Well, you mentioned some time back that you had a visor. And that you understand all to well, how hard it is for me to keep the black and white finish good and clean. So you know... I guessed.”

Jazz didn't even remember telling Prowl that. But obviously Prowl did. It made Jazz's spark flutter. “Good you did, with how stunning ya look, ah don't think I would gather the courage to approach you.” As soon as he said that, Jazz cursed himself in his processor. What was he doing? What was he saying? Sure Prowl was ridiculously beautiful, but that wasn't the reason to make a fool of himself.

But Prowl didn't look like he was going to hold it against him. He seemed surprised at first, but then just turned, so he was better facing Jazz, and looked at him with optics full of uncertainty, but also resolve. “I'm glad I did then.”

“Yeah, it would be horrible to continue talking at work, like we did,” said Jazz, and noticing Prowl's worried glance, quickly added, “Since I'd much prefer talking to you in person, like we do now.” And then, deciding he had enough of this awkwardness, “So how was your day at work?”

Prowl immediately perked up at the mention of work. “Really good, actually. If a bit uneventful. But I had a chance to finally get through some of the older case files I was interested in. This last deca-cycle I had a lot of work with media calling me all the time, but I think I finally sorted out everything. You know, how to manage it all.”

Jazz felt a little guilty. “Sorry, ah was calling you all the time, didn't I? For sure wasn't making it any easier for ya.”

“Oh no!” Prowl was quick to reply. “I didn't mean it like that.” He visibly hesitated. He looked to the side, obviously relieved Bluestreak seemed to be busy with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, and then continued. “I like to talk to you. Much better than work.” He seemed flustered by the admission and Jazz felt like it was a big deal for Prowl to say that. He couldn't help but smile. He was going to die of Prowl tonight.

Fortunately, soon other mechs around the table took pity on them (unconsciously, Jazz hoped) and turned their attention to Jazz and Prowl.

“So Prowl,” started Fortress Maximus. “How is the Sixshot case going? Is he going to be my guest soon?”

“Max.” Rung looked at his partner sternly. “It's not a place to discuss it. I'm sure Prowl can't talk details in company anyway.”

“It's quite alright, Rung,” said Prowl. “I would kindly decline giving away any information.” He smiled politely while saying that.

“Well, I'm hopefully gonna find out soon,” Fortress Maximus shrugged.

Prowl smiled quizzically. “That you will.”

“Who's that Sixshot guy anyway?” asked Jazz, not really knowing what his friends were talking about.

“A murderer,” said Skids.

“A monster, that's what he is,” added Bluestreak immediately after.

“He seems to be linked to a couple of murders, but the case is still opened, we are still gathering evidence,” said Prowl finally.

“The whole Yuss talked about nothing else just last year,” added Smokescreen. “They found four bodies in different states of decomposition in a garbage dump outside city lines.”

“I was writing about it, you can see our archive and read, if you're that interested,” finished Starscream, with his annoyed optics making it clear he didn't want to continue this line of conversation.

For some reason it made Swerve laugh. “Starscream's all snippy about it, because Prowl doesn't want to give away any exclusive details.” So that was the reason.

“Mechs have the right to know...,” started Starscream, but Prowl interrupted him.

“First and foremost mechs have the right to see the _right_ mech sentenced. And to do that, we have to gather all the possible evidence with care and diligence that is needed and expected from us.”

Starscream huffed, but said nothing else. It was Sideswipe who talked instead. “Starscream, did you seriously think you could convince Prowl to break his beloved rules?” he asked and laughed.

“Rules are there for a good reason, so I really don't understand why you find it so unusual I abide by them.” Jazz looked at Prowl. His whole demeanour changed all of a sudden. He was no longer shy, but instead held himself straight and looked ahead with a stern and determined look on his faceplates. Still it made Jazz smile. He had a chance to hear this side of Prowl a few times, when they were discussing work, and it was interesting to finally see it. He always liked it best to see people passionate about something, and if rules made Prowl this fierce, he was more than alright with it.

Jazz was fairly sure he was looking at Prowl with utter adoration, he had to be, because when Rewind suddenly laughed wholeheartedly, he was looking at Jazz and shaking his head. “Oh Jazz...” he said and snickered again.

That got Prowl's attention. With surprise written all over his faceplates, he looked first at Jazz, then at Rewind, and then back at Jazz. He looked completely clueless as to what was going on.

“It's nothing.” Jazz smiled and patted Prowl on the back. “I'm just marvelling at how good of a person you are.”

“Oh.” Prowl seemed surprised by that. He also obviously couldn't decide if Jazz was mocking or complementing him. Finally he had to settle on the latter, since he relaxed visibly and they could go back to their conversation.

From that point onward Jazz could wholly focus on Prowl. As they both soon realized, talking in person was just as compelling as their earlier talks. What's more, over the past deca-cycle they got to know each other well enough and there were no awkward slip-ups and changes of topic to their conversation. They could simply enjoy each other's company and share drinks.

All to soon it was getting late. (And wasn't it enough of a proof of how nice it was to spend time with Prowl, that he hadn't realized how fast the time was passing?) Skids and Swerve, as well as Ultra Magnus, Rodimus and Longtooth were first to go. Soon they were joined by others, until only Bluestreak and the twins were sitting beside Prowl and Jazz.

“I guess we should all call it a night,” said Sunstreaker finally. He then looked at Bluestreak meaningfully, making him smirk at the implied pleasure they would no doubt share that evening.

“Yeah, you're right, it's gotten really late.” Bluestreak looked at Prowl, then at Jazz. “You're going, too?”

Jazz nodded. “I stayed too long already. I live practically on the outskirts, it's really far.” He chuckled half-heartedly. “And with how much I drank, I don't trust myself with driving.”

“Prowl could walk you home, just to keep you company,” said Bluestreak suddenly. Sideswipe nodded energetically and added, “He hasn't drunk anything, so he can safely drive back home afterwards.”

Prowl looked surprised by the suggestion, but definitely interested. “It does seem like a good idea.” He looked at Jazz questioningly, waiting for his answer.

And really, what else could Jazz say but agree?

 

“So you've seen me yesterday?” was one of the first things Prowl asked him when they finally said goodbye to Bluestreak and the twins, and were on their way to Jazz's home. “With Soundwave and his sparklings.”

“Yeah.”

“He's a really good mech, a good friend of mine.”

“Only a friend?” Jazz had to hear Prowl answer that himself.

The enforcer very obviously expected the question. He looked absolutely sure of himself when he answered it. “A very good friend, but only a friend. I'm not in a relationship with anyone right now.”

Jazz couldn't stop a smile from appearing on his face. “Good, that's really good."

“Why, are you interested?” There was the intensity in Prowl's optics that made Jazz's spark whirl.

“Maybe I am.” He hesitated for only a few kliks and then asked, “Would _you_ be? Interested, I mean.”

Prowl smiled. He wasn't looking at Jazz, but straight ahead at the road they were walking. “I think I would be.”

That was exactly what Jazz wanted to hear.

Unfortunately, that was also the moment when they were about to part ways, because suddenly they were in front of Jazz's home. Jazz couldn't help but be nervous. Was that the moment Prowl would try to kiss him? Or was it still too early for that? They were both obviously interested in each other, they said it out just moments ago. But was it the time for that? Jazz could handle a little kissing, he had done so with Siren, but did he really want to base a new possible relationship on discomfort, like he had done with the last one?

Prowl had to notice his discomfort and took it as his cue to leave.

“I should be heading home now.” He gestured the way they had just come from. “It was really nice to finally meet you in person.”

Jazz shook his head, wanting to get rid of all the unpleasant thoughts and smiled. “Yeah, it really was.” Almost instinctively he went back to flirting. “I actually didn't expect you had so many more good qualities in person,” he said, sending Prowl a teasing smile.

Prowl averted his eyes as he tried to stop a shy smile from appearing on his lips and failed. “Thank you.”

An awkward silence was threatening to engulf them, but before it could, Prowl moved to take Jazz's servo in his. Jazz invented harshly. Prowl's fingers were cold, also longer and thinner than Jazz's, but still Jazz found it nice to have them gripping his servo. He squeezed them and Prowl squeezed back.

“I really should go now.”

“Umm...” Jazz wanted to agree, but it was really hard. He wanted to enjoy Prowl's company some more. But they both had to get up early the next solar cycle. It really was the time to call it a night. “Yeah, you should go. I mean, you still have a long way home.”

“So... See you next time?” Prowl sounded hesitant.

“Oh definitely!” Jazz had to laugh at his own eager exclamation, but it seemed to give Prowl more confidence – he pulled lightly at Jazz's hand and after forcing Jazz to come closer, pulled him into an embrace.

Jazz stilled for a moment, but when it was clear a hug was all Prowl intended, he returned it eagerly. Prowl's frame was just as his servo – a little bit cold, lean in all the right places and full in others. They seemed to fit together perfectly.

The hug didn't last long, and all too soon they let go and stepped away. Before Prowl turned back, transformed and headed home, they stood there for a few more kliks, staring into each other's optics, both smiling like fools.

 


	5. Lucid Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz gets some relationship advice from a few friends of his. Also he meets Prowl and takes a shot at serious discussions. Basically it's A LOT of talking.

Jazz's whole body jerked as he was brutally pulled out of his recharge by the sound of his receiver ringing annoyingly. Only half awake and a quarter aware of what was going on, he dragged himself off of his berth and sat in front of the monitor, almost unconsciously hitting the receiving button. Blaster's smiling face (and wasn't it just unfair to be this optimistic at this indecent hour?) greeted him just a klik later.

“Rise and shine!” his friend exclaimed and Jazz winced at the volume of his voice, which was suspiciously high.

“Why?” he groaned.

Blaster's face instantly turned into a mix of annoyance and satisfaction, the latter obviously at Jazz's misery. “That's what you get for not telling me about your new lover!”

“He's not mah...” Jazz tried, but didn't get to finish.

“Ah! You don't even try to deny it, there really is someone!” Blaster managed to sound triumphant and hurt at the same time. He sighed and then, almost as an afterthought, smiled. “But he's real handsome, so I forgive you.”

That finally got Jazz's full attention. He looked at Blaster sharply. “How do you know that?”

Blaster shrugged. “Rewind showed me his photo.”

“Wha-” Jazz looked at Blaster in disbelief. “You know Rewind? How do ya know Rewind?”

“We are old friends.”

“What do ya mean, 'old friends'? How come ah don't know anything about that?” It was ridiculous. This whole conversation was ridiculous. It didn't make any sense, Jazz thought, as he stared at Blaster, waiting for reply.

“Well, you know I'm friends with Eject?”

“ _That_ particular 'old friend' of yours I know.” Jazz kept on putting quotation marks with his fingers on every 'old friends' he could. What did that even mean? He was Blaster's 'old friends' so he should know everything about him and Rewind. Especially if it involved Eject, who Jazz had known for vorns now.

“Rewind is his brother.”

Jazz stayed silent for a long klik. “What?” he managed to say finally.

“Why are you so surprised? They are basically identical. How have you not noticed?” 

Jazz had to admit, it was true. Still he decided not to mention that. “Many mechs share the same frame type, why should ah assume they are all related?” He huffed. “And besides, that's why you decided not to mention that? Because it was so obvious?” Jazz tried not to sound too bitter.

“Well, I realized it only yesterday, too.” Jazz was about to comment on that, but before he could, Blaster continued. “Anyway. He was talking about you to Eject last solar cycle evening, and since Eject knows _you_...”

“He had to tell ya everything about that.”

“Of course he told me! Apparently you are in some kind of a heated romance, or at least as heated as it can get with you, that everyone in Yuss cheers for!” Blaster huffed and crossed his arms over his chest plating. “And apparently you've forgotten to tell your best friend about it.”

Jazz focused mainly on the middle part of Blaster's little speech. He sighed. He should have expected it, that it was the same as with Rung. This fragging office just needed gossip to function properly. It was probably only logical, with them making money out of knowing everything about everyone in Yuss. Also it seemed it had been only a matter of time for the news to leave Yuss and get to Blaster. At least it looked like everyone wished him and his not yet existing relationship with Prowl all the best.

“I'm sorry, it's just...” His fans whirled. “It's been a little overwhelming, everything that happened since ah moved here. And since it was only yesterday that I actually _met_ Prowl...”

“I know, I'm only teasing you.” Blaster smiled and for Jazz it was obvious his friend was telling the truth. “But really, with this enforcer of yours looking how he looks, I can't blame you for going for it and forgetting about the whole wide world.” He straightened his back and looked at Jazz sharply. “But now as I do know, I want all the scandalous details”

Jazz chuckled. “You know it doesn't get much scandalous with me.”

“I know, still I want to know everything.” Blaster kept on looking at him expectingly. 

“I don't know what to tell you, you probably already know everything,” Jazz teased.

“I want to know what _you_ think about him.”

“He's really attractive,” blurted Jazz.

“I can see that,” snickered Blaster.

“Ah don't mean his looks only,” said Jazz, like it was somehow rude to accuse Prowl of being just handsome. “He doesn't want to be, but he's still really charming. He's so nice and smart and attentive and not pushy at all-”

“Jazz...” Blaster looked at him worriedly. “You can't know that yet, you barely know him.” He stopped for a moment, like he wasn't sure if he should continue. “You thought you knew that about Siren...”

“I know.” Jazz flared out his plating, letting out some of the hot air gathered there.”He just... He seems different. Good different.”

Blaster barked a laugh. “And I really hope he is, because you look like you're already  _way_ too deep.”

“You don't need to jump head first into this,” Cosmos suddenly added. He waved at Jazz, as he settled next to Blaster in front of the camera. He was probably preparing for the day at work as Jazz was talking to Blaster. Jazz watched wistfully as Blaster greeted Cosmos with a kiss and only then let him continue. “I mean, you've just broken up with Siren, I'm sure this Prowl of yours wouldn't mind to just meet you, like, no strings attached or something. And if it turns into something serious in time...” 

He looked at Jazz meaningfully and flashed his visor. Somehow this gesture, as well as Cosmos' words, made him feel better once more.

“Yeah, yer probably right, I'm overthinking it all.”

Cosmos laughed. “You are, a little bit.” Then he looked at Jazz almost seriously. “Don't get so worked up about it. Take your time. If Prowl is also serious about you, he won't mind it to take it slow for you.”

Jazz smiled at his friend, but inside he somehow worriedly hoped Blaster and Cosmos were right.

  
  


After being woken up so early, Jazz couldn't go back to recharge for a quick nap, no matter how hard he tried, so instead he got ready for work and left his quarters. He arrived at the newsroom earlier than most – only Ultra Magnus and sometimes Rung were to be met this early – and decided to spend that time in the break room.

Jazz was only a little surprised when Rung approached him a little bit later, as Jazz was taking an energon cube out of a dispenser.

“Are you alright?” asked the dainty mech.

“Yeah, I am. Why?” Jazz would suspect some ulterior motives behind that question if it wasn't Rung asking it.

“It can be a little overwhelming to begin a relationship in this environment. Even if everyone's friendly, they still gossip way more than is proper.” Rung obviously tried to sound scolding, but only managed a resigned fondness.

Still Jazz couldn't stop himself from teasing him a little, since after all Rung _did_ have an ulterior motif for his small talk. “You would know that the best, right?”

The other mech's fans whirled in embarrassment, but he quickly composed himself. “Yes, it's something I've experienced personally.”

Jazz put a hand on Rung's shoulder. “But they probably do that because they care or something like that, right?”

The small mech laughed. “Maybe a little, but mostly they just want to gossip.” Then he looked meaningfully at Jazz. “But we are getting off topic.”

“You don't have to worry, ah don't want to rush things, I'm taking it slowly. At least that's what my friends advised me to do.”

“A very sound advice, that is.” Rung cleared his vocalizer and looked to the side. “Especially since I've heard you have just finished one relationship?” Jazz looked at Rung in surprise. “I'm sorry, Bluestreak just talks a lot. I shouldn't have said that.”

“No, it's alright, I was just surprised you know about it.”

“So...” Rung started and looked at Jazz, obviously trusting him to answer the unasked question.

Jazz sighed. “ I'm not going to rush things only so Bluestreak and the company can congratulate themselves,” he said. Then he smiled. “I just want both Prowl and myself to be happy. Just that.”

  
  


After his brief talk with Rung and a boost of energy from an energon cube, Jazz began his work day. Miraculously, it was rather uneventful, especially comparing it to that morning and the day before. He had plenty of time to think all the events over and at least begin to sort it out in his head. Which in reality meant that he could without any remorse daydream about Prowl and his attractive self. Because no matter how hard he tried to focus on maybe analysing his feelings, his processor kept on bringing him back to the topic of just how nice it was to finally meet the enforcer and how easily they connected. How was he supposed to reason with his feelings, when with every moment he felt more and more sure that there was a real connection between him and Prowl?

He hadn't managed to answer the question that solar cycle, or the one after that. During that time, because of Prowl's work, he went back to talking to the officer over the phone during his working hours. Bluestreak asked him about it constantly, fishing for some news regarding Jazz's relationship with his brother, that he for some reason so very much cheered for. But Jazz didn't mind that very much. Bluestreak's eagerness to lead him into a happy relationship with Prowl was almost endearing, and besides, there was Soundwave and Rung to stop Bluestreak before he went too far with sticking his helm into Jazz's business. Jazz could only hope he wasn't bothering Prowl too much with the same treatment.

Finally, on the third solar cycle, as Jazz once again called Prowl and was gathering information about yet another accident, they managed to set a date and decide to meet after work.

The time of that meeting couldn't arrive soon enough.

  
  


Jazz couldn't remember when was the last time he felt this nervous before a date. Despite his disinterest in interfacing, he enjoyed meeting other mechs and dated almost notoriously. Of course before he met Siren. He never cheated on his partners. Not that Siren was worth it, he thought bitterly. But no matter this recent break, he was still experienced in dating, picking up handsome mechs, flirting with them and enjoying their company, as well as making them enjoy his on numerous occasions. So why was Prowl making him this nervous? Was it the possibility of what could be between them? Despite knowing so little about the officer, he couldn't help but think that something good could come out of this chance meeting of theirs.

Was he being overly hopeful and naive? Most obviously. He was probably looking for a rebound relationship, making himself believe, Prowl was something he needed, when he was just a random mech, chosen on a whim by his lonely spark. But still he couldn't stop himself from wishing for their still very fresh acquaintance to turn into something meaningful – ideally a romantic relationship, but he would also gladly take Prowl's friendship any day.

As Jazz was thinking about that, Prowl finally arrived. They hugged briefly and looked at each other bashfully.

“I'm sorry for being late, but I had to wait for Chromedome to come over, so I could debrief him on what was going on at the precinct those last couple of vorns. Tomorrow he once again takes over contacting the media.”

”Oh...” Jazz couldn't stop disappointment from colouring his voice. “So yer going back to your old job?”

“Yes, Ratchet gave me an all clear. I'm starting tomorrow.” He looked at Jazz, obviously noticing the sadness on his face, one that he tried very much to hide from the other mech. “Is it a bad thing?”

“No!” Jazz cringed at the volume of his voice. Then he started again, more silently. “No, it's just... We won't be talking daily any more.”

“Unless we meet after work, like today.”

Jazz's visor gleamed. “Ah would like that a lot. But now, let's go somewhere nice. Ya know a place where we can drink energon peacefully?”

Prowl's servo went to his helm and he rubbed at his red chevron, looking at Jazz abashedly. “I don't really go out a lot. So I don't know if the one place I frequent is really that good...”

“It is, if you keep going back,” said Jazz and grabbed Prowl's servo. “So ya lead the way.”

“Alright,” said Prowl. They started walking. “But you need to know I go there mainly to think about cases, when I need a change of surroundings.”

Jazz squeezed the servo still tangled with his and looked at Prowl with a smile. “I'm not sure if yer trying to discourage me, 'cause if you are, it's not working.”

Prowl smiled back. “No, I really want us to spend time there together.”

They walked all the way to the energon shop. It wasn't an overly long walk, but even if it wasn't short either, there was no need for driving there. This way they were closer and could enjoy each other's company on the way there. When they finally arrived, they found a table in the furthest part of the shop and after ordering flavoured energon, settled into an easy conversation about nothing in particular. For a while, at least.

“So I've heard you came here to take a few vents after breaking up with your partner. Are you feeling better now?”

Jazz hid his face behind the glass of glowing red energon as he sipped on it to gain some time to think, how exactly he should answer. The answer that was actually very obvious to his spark, he just wasn't sure he could speak out loud. Wouldn't it make things awkward between them? “It's better, much better than I expected. Thanks to _you_.” It seemed his vocalizer took that decision for him, since he was speaking as soon as he put the glass down on the table.

He glanced worriedly at Prowl. The enforcer looked a fair bit shy, but he was also smiling delicately, so it couldn't be all that bad. “That's not something you hear often. But I'm...,” he hesitated. “I'm happy you feel this way.”

They were silent for a few kliks, just looking at each other. Jazz could stay like this, he didn't mind it one bit, gazing into those ice-blue optics and marvelling at how calm Prowl's presence made him. The enforcer for his part looked pretty satisfied with their current position, too. They obviously both enjoyed themselves, but Jazz, underneath all the happiness, knew he had to bring up the subject sooner or later.

Better as soon as possible. He took a deep vent.

“Ya know, there are things...” He fidgeted and gripped one of his servos with the other. “We've just met really and-”

Prowl straightened and in a klik, instead of relaxed and mellow, he looked focused and determined.

“Oh, no, it's alright, I understand,” said Prowl quickly, instantly picking up on what Jazz was trying to bring up. “We don't have to rush, _I_ don't want to rush.” He hesitated for a klik, then continued. “There are things we don't yet know each other well enough to talk about and I don't mind. It will all come in time.”

Jazz could physically feel the stress he hadn't realized gathered under his plating, leave his frame along with the hot air that he suddenly released through his vents.

“Yeah, like, even if we are serious, and I _am_ serious about ya, just so you know. Anyway, even if we are serious, we don't yet need to discuss living together, sleeping arrangements or sparklings, right?”Jazz laughed, but then turned serious. He couldn't stop his curiosity now, as he indirectly touched the subject of interfacing. “Now as I said that, I'm actually curious, do you want sparklings, Prowl?”

Jazz thought about Prowl walking beside Soundwave, surrounded by the cassettes. It was a nice picture, he could admit it now, as he knew there was no romance or secret relationship between the two. He couldn't give Prowl that, if they ever got to that point. Would he have to let him go then? He had to drop that thought however, when he noticed how uncomfortable Prowl suddenly looked.

“I...” Prowl squirmed in his seat. “I mean... It's complicated.” He looked so sheepish, Jazz decided to take pity on him, even if Prowl's reaction made him distressed, too.

“It's alright, ya don't have to explain yourself, we can talk about it some other time,” said Jazz. “Or not at all.”

Prowl looked like he wanted to add something, but he changed his mind and instead smiled at Jazz, holding his servo out and waiting for Jazz to covered it with his own, which he gladly did. “Thank you.”

_Complicated is better than wanting to have many sparklings_ , thought Jazz, as he rubbed Prow's servo with his fingers.

Jazz feared it would get awkward after that, but it didn't – they shared delicious energon and a nice conversation up until evening, when they had to finally part. They were both reluctant to do so, Jazz could tell. “Maybe I could walk you home this time?” he asked finally, and hoped he wasn't being too forward, and most importantly, that Prowl didn't read too much into that.

“I would like that a lot, but then you would have to get to your own home, which is rather far from mine.” He cleared his vocalizer. “I wouldn't want to impose like that.”

“It wouldn't be imposing, not at all,” said Jazz and smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I'm just really bummed we have to part already. I hoped to spend some more time with you.”

Those words made Prowl's lips form a rare smile. “Then let's go.”

Jazz did walk Prowl home that evening. He walked him all the way to a tall apartment building and waited there, until the enforcer disappeared behind the elevator door. Jazz lingered there for a few kliks more, desperately wishing they didn't need to part, but instead could continue this all the way into the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long break, but I had some health problems that I had to take care of, and I really wasn't in the right mood for this fic. Anyway, only one more chapter to go (which is halfway finished, so I should post it MUCH faster than this one) and an epilogue.


	6. Come On Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some secrets are revealed, as Jazz and Prowl finally face their fears and start talking about the future.

“What are you doing here?”

Jazz looked up, for a moment forgetting about the datapad he had been reading. Standing just next to him, Bluestreak was staring at him with an obvious surprise lightening his optics.

“What do y'mean?” asked Jazz in return.

Bluestreak flicked his doorwings in annoyance. “Why are you not in the orphanage?”

Jazz had to admit, he didn't entirely understand the question. Bluestreak was right, it was the solar cycle of the big event at the orphanage, that was sponsored and organized by the enforcers of Yuss. And since Jazz was the one to write the small article inviting the town inhabitants to the event, so they could support the sparklings with no creators to care for them, he was the one designated to go there that solar cycle. Even if he tried to avoid the job, the rest of his co-workers would probably force him to go there, just so he could meet Prowl. Not that he really wanted to miss out on the event. Jazz really wanted to donate some money to the orphanage, as well as spend some time with sparklings that for sure needed to see someone cared for them. And also see Prowl. Obviously.

However, he had a lot of time to get there. It was still early, the event had just begun and would continue for another few cycles. There was no need to rush.

“I thought ah would come over here first, to tell Ultra Magnus what my plans for today were,” said Jazz. It earned him an exasperated sigh.

“Don't be ridiculous, just go there, I'll tell Ultra Magnus everything he needs to know. Don't waste time here, when you could be there,” said Bluestreak and flickered his doorwings again.

Jazz thought for a moment. Maybe it _was_ a good idea, he could get there faster, spend more time there with Prowl and actually do something good – he couldn't wait to take part in the lottery, donate some money, and do something to help the centre. It was also the only thing he had to do that solar cycle, so he could really enjoy his time there, playing with sparklings and not worrying about his own problems.

“You are right, ah should just go there,” he finally said and stood up to leave, not wanting to waste any more time. Bluestreak just smiled at him and waved him off. Jazz walked out of the office. He looked left and right, deciding on the best route to the orphanage. By now he had a pretty good grasp on Yuss traffic, and so could consider two different roads to take – one shorter, and the other less busy. At this time it would be probably wiser to take the one that was longer, but didn't have as many cars taking it. Having made his decision, Jazz was about to transform and drive away, when he heard his name being called. He turned around.

To his surprise, it was Bluestreak who went out after him. Jazz looked at him questioningly.

“I've almost forgotten, I have one more thing to tell you,” he said, trying to calm his whirling mechanics. He had obviously jogged here. Or maybe he was just nervous. But why he would be, Jazz had no idea. “Since you are already here, I wanted to also apologize.”

Jazz frowned. “For what?”

Bluestreak looked down at his pedes, and wrung his fingers nervously. It wasn't usual to see the Praxian like this, Jazz couldn't remember if he had actually witnessed the usually upbeat and loud mech behaving this way.

“I know I push you a lot towards Prowl,” said Bluestreak finally. “And I gossip about you two all the time... But I'm just so excited you could maybe be together. I mean, Prowl's been alone for so long now, and he seems to have liked you from the beginning, the same as _you_ instantly fell for _him_. I guess I would just like that a lot, if you two found happiness with each other.”

Jazz watched in surprise as Bluestreak babbled, words flying out of his mind even faster than usually. The mech was obviously distressed and very sincere in his apologies. Still Jazz thought, he didn't really need to hear that, there was nothing Bluestreak should apologize for, and so he told the Praxian exactly that. Then he added, “Ah want to form something with Prowl, I hope we will.” He put his servo on Bluestreak's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. “I just have to take it on my own pace. I mean, I have some issues after Siren and...”

“You don't have to explain, I understand,” said Bluestreak and took Jazz's servos in his. He looked straight into Jazz's visor. “And Prowl understands, too. He has some things he needs to tell you about, but is too nervous to do that, just like you.”

Jazz looked at Bluestreak in surprise. “He does? Is it something serious?”

Bluestreak bit his lower lip, as he smiled secretively. “Oh you're probably going to find out really soon. Just go now.”

Deciding there was nothing more to discuss and it really was the time for him to go, Jazz quickly transformed and hit the road.

  


Jazz looked around, searching for the striking black and white plating, and a red chevron. He was supposed to meet Prowl here, but he couldn't spot the Praxian anywhere just yet. There were however other mechs walking around the huge garden that surrounded the building. They were buying energon treats, colourful drinks and little trinkets made by the sparklings. A few of the adult mechs stood also at the booth that sold lottery tickets. All the money would be used to equip the orphanage with new berths, datapads and other things needed for the little mechs to study. If there was also enough money for that, sparklings would get new toys – a treat they didn't enjoy very often, Jazz was sure of that.

“You're here already,” came a voice from behind him, startling Jazz and making him jump. He immediately turned around to see Prowl's smiling face.

“Ah came early to spend more time with you,” he blurted out. It earned him a twinkle of those icy blue optics, so he guessed there was nothing to feel embarrassed about.

“I'm glad you did.” He looked to the booths with confections. “Have you bought something already?”

“Not yet, no.”

Prowl grabbed his servo and pulled him in the right direction. “Then let's go.”

The Praxian's servo stayed on his the whole time. Jazz felt his spark swell in happiness. He followed Prowl willingly and let him buy two servings of energon sweets and spiced drinks. Prowl was even offered a discount, but he politely declined.

“We are supposed to gather as much money as we can, Velocity,” he said to the femme behind the little counter. “It would be counterproductive, if I accepted a discount.”

The femme, Velocity, as Prowl called her, shook her head. “You do so much for this place already.”

Prowl smiled shyly. “I should be doing even more.”

Jazz looked at Prowl with interest. It seemed the Praxian did more for the orphanage and visited it more often than he let on. So him asking Jazz for help more than deca-cycle ago, wasn't him simply doing his job as a press officer, he was taking care of a personal matter, close to his spark. Jazz would be naïve to think otherwise, but it was obvious there were many things he still didn't know about Prowl. He couldn't wait to find out.

Then they moved to the booth with little toys and decorations made by the mechlings living in the orphanage. Jazz couldn't help but smile. Most of them weren't very pretty, but in an obvious, sparkling way, and thus seemed rather cute instead of disturbed.

“You want one?” he asked Prowl.

“Two actually, but first I have to know which ones.”

Jazz looked at him not really understanding, meaning to ask for explanation, but before he could as much as open his mouth, he got interrupted.

“Prowl!” There was a sudden squeak from somewhere to the side of them, and to Jazz's greatest surprise, two mostly white sparkling-shaped balls of energy collided with Prowl and clung to him almost desperately.

On closer inspection they were real sparklings. As Jazz came to this conclusion, Prowl was already picking them up and letting them cuddle close to his plating.

“Hello Drift, Wing,” he said and as he did, he gently kissed each sparkling's helm, and got two happy whirls of little fans in reply.

Jazz stared in shock. Partly because helping sparklings was one thing, but being apparently absolutely adored by them was completely else. Also, the picture of Prowl craddling little mechlings in his arms was doing funny things to Jazz's spark. He already knew he wanted to see it happen more often.

“Jazz,” said Prowl finally, yanking Jazz out of his thoughts. “I want you to meet Drift and Wing” He looked at Jazz seriously. “Hopefully they will be soon living with me.” One of the sparklings looked at Jazz with interest and waved shyly. Jazz waved back. The other hid his face in the crook of Prowls neck and shoulder. Prowl moved his audial closer to the small mech, then chuckled. “Yes, Drift, he's my friend.”

Drift looked at Jazz warily for a long moment. Then he glanced at Prowl. “We made something for you.”

“Oh, did you? I was looking at the booth just now. Are your decorations in there?”

Wing shook his head. He reached out his servo,which was gripping something that looked like a small mesh doll. Wing showed it to Prowl. Just as he did, Drift moved to show a matching doll of his own. “It's for you,” said the small mech.

Prowl put the sparklings down carefully and took the offered dolls. He looked at them for a long moment and then almost solemnly hid them in his subspace. “Thank you, they will be waiting for you at home.” He caressed small helms and one more time hugged the sparklings.

Soon Wing and Drift took off, to enjoy all the attractions prepared for the little mechs. Or rather Wing grabbed Drift's small servo and pulled him to the side, where a large bouncy castle stood proudly, with other sparklings jumping all around it. Jazz and Prowl were left alone with each other.

“Their creators were killed by Sixshot.” Prowl didn't waste any time to break the silence. Jazz looked at him in surprise.

“That's the case you were discussing with Fort Max the other day, right?”

“Yes. When I arrived at the scene, Drift and Wing, they were still there, left by the dumbster...” Prowl's vocalizer glitched bad and he had to take more than a few kliks to calm himself and get it working again. “They were clinging to their deactivated creators.”

Jazz felt his spark whirl in distress. He didn't know what to say, so he simply put his servo on Prowl's and squeezed. Prowl squeezed back. He managed a shaky smile.

“I started visiting them regularly after that, they don't have anyone else. They got attached. _I_ got attached.”

“And now ya want to take them in?” Was it Prowl's secret that Bluestreak mentioned? If so, then Jazz couldn't feel more proud of Prowl. Maybe it was a surprise, and a huge complication if they were to think of a steady relationship, but in this moment he felt a surge of respect for the enforcer. “I'm sure they will be so happy with you,” he added.

“It's not easy,” sighed Prowl. He started walking to the more secluded part of the garden. “They don't want to let a single mech adopt a sparkling. They worry it won't be enough. But they see how Wing and Drift react to me. I also passed all the tests, I got a positive opinion from a psychologist. As an enforcer, I am entitled to a spot in a daycare centre for my sparklings. I really _could_ take care of them.”

Jazz smiled at his reassuringly. “I'm sure they will soon let ya take them back home with you.”

Prowl looked to the side, where Drift and Wing were running around with other sparklings. “I really hope so.”

  


As fun as it was to spend almost half a day with Prowl and in-between talking to him, watch the Praxian follow his two little sparklings, Jazz finally had to say goodbye and go back to the office to write an article about the event. Sometime earlier Circuit and Longtooth dropped by to take same photos and do a short film about the orphanage, so it could go with Jazz's piece. All that was left, was for Jazz to do his part of work.

Something he realized that very moment, was the more time he spent with Prowl, the harder it was to part.

“I really have to go now,” he kept on repeating, as he tried to make himself let go of Prowl's servo and go back to his office. He succeeded only when Prowl chuckled, hugged Jazz briefly, and almost pushed him out of the garden, and onto the road, where he had to transform and drive away. Before he did that however, he told Jazz to come over to his place after work, so they could watch a holodrama together. Jazz couldn't say 'no' to that request.

He wanted to do everything as fast as possible, just so the work would end faster, but he knew he could take his time – Prowl's shift ended much later than his work at the office, so he had all the time in the world to not only finish the article, but also to roll back home and take a quick shower. As soon as he was done with everything, he did exactly that. He took a quick ride home, showered, even managed to wax his plating. He wanted to look nice for Prowl.

By the time he arrived at Prowl's place, it was already getting dark, but he was at least sure that Prowl himself had some time to refresh. He most obviously used that time well, as when he opened the door to let Jazz in, his plating was carefully polished, the lights playing nicely off his black and white paint. This simplicity Prowl chose for himself was incredibly pleasing to the optics. Jazz couldn't look away.

They quickly decided on the holodrama – some horror flick with Tailgate. The actor got really popular recently, after starring in a heartbreaking romance opposite Cyclonus, another fan favourite, known for his aloofness. They were actually rumoured to be a couple in real life. All of that Jazz knew, but Prowl heard for the first time, as the Iaconian told him all about the rumours, before the action in the film picked up and actually got scary.

That's how Jazz ended up talking throughout most of the holodrama – he was too used to watching horrors to get scared, and Prowl didn't understand the appeal, but they enjoyed themselves nonetheless. Tailgate was a good actor and a really cute mech too look at. And in a surprising twist, he proved to be a fierce warrior, fighting off the monsters and saving his huge, well-armoured love interest.

Speaking of love interests, Jazz used the end of the holodrama to turn towards Prowl, getting even more comfortable next to him on the coach, and start a more serious conversation.

“Why were ya so nervous the other day, when ah asked you about the sparklings? You obviously want them.” He put his chin in his servo and watched Prowl intently. “And it's nothing bad, actually it's amazing that you want to care for Drift and Wing. Were you worried ah wouldn't understand? That's why you said it was complicated?”

Prowl's reaction was the same as the last time. His fans kicked on and he looked down.

“I-” he tried, but had to stop to calm himself. Then he tried again. “I guess I should tell you now, before we get too serious... You see, I don't-” he vented hard again. He was stuttering so bad, Jazz himself was getting nervous. “As you now know, it's not that I don't _want_ sparklings. I just can't have my own.” Another vent, “Because I don't interface.”

Jazz felt all the mechanics in his frame stop for one very long klik. “You... What?”

Prowl suddenly looked very small and his doorwings trembled on his back. “I don't interface. I don't want to and I don't need to do that. I just... I don't want to interface, even when I'm in a relationship. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but-”

Jazz didn't let him finish. His spark was whirling, his processor screaming at him in sudden realization, as Bluestreak and Soundwave's comments from the last vorns suddenly made so much sense. And so Jazz did the only thing that made sense to him right now – he flung himself at Prowl and embraced him almost desperately.

“Jazz?” Prowl sounded unsure. Jazz couldn't really blame him. He did after all suddenly throw himself at the poor enforcer, without any explanation. He had to change that.

“I'm the same,” he mumbled against Prowl's chest plating, that his face was now pressed against. He instantly felt it when Prowl tensed.

“What do you mean, the same?”

“I'm the same, ah don't interface.”

Prowl prompted him to lift his head and looked him straight in the visor. “Please, tell me you are serious.”

“Deadly.”

The smile that broke out on Prowl's face was radiant and so hopeful, Jazz's spark stopped for a klik. Then it whirled frantically, when the enforcer returned the embrace.”Isn't it an unbelievable coincidence?”

Jazz chuckled. “Maybe it's _fate_ ,” he answered teasingly. He felt the steady thrum of Prowl's mechanics speed up as he finally replied. “Maybe.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. Hope you are still enjoying the story ^^
> 
> Also quick question - would anyone be interested in reading oneshots about the supporting characters to this story? I'm thinking about maybe writing them after I post the last chapter. If I were to do that, I would be probably taking requests so you guys can read stories that actually interest you. So... Would anyone read it?


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